Chef Hambone is mixing up a batch of pancakes for breakfast

January 6, 2016 - Friday

-14 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I figured I'd better get downstairs early this morning to write before the two-year-old whirlwind awakens. One thing for certain, when Hambone's in the house, there are few dull moments.

I guess there really isn't much to blather about this morning. I've got a lot of Grandma/Grandpa pictures that were taken yesterday. It was so cold and windy yesterday that all of our activities were confined to indoors, something that neither Grady or I like very much.

We started the day by making pancakes. Our's is a recipe that started with Great Great Grandma Pennington and has been handed down through the generations. 

That's a lie. It's off the side of the box. 

The biggest culinary accomplishment was teaching Grady how to crack an egg. He saw me doing the first one, then wanted to try the second all by himself.

It kind of went well. He cracked it, let the contents dribble into the bowl, then squished the shell into tiny pieces and threw that in too. He's got the right idea, but we need to work on his concept a bit more.

In the end, we had delicious, if not round and somewhat crunchy, pancakes. I told Grady that when he goes home, he can make them for his mommy and daddy, something he seems very eager to do!

I also taught Hambone the art of remote car crashing. We've had a couple of remote cars around here for several years just waiting for a grandchild who's old enough to come visit and since we couldn't go outside to play, I decided it was time to bring the action indoors.

Why does it take an old man half an hour to become coordinated enough to learn how to even turn on a controller, yet a two year old acts like he was born with one in his hand? 

I pictured getting the best of Grady by speeding my car across the floor and spin a few donuts before delivering a lethal hit. 

That didn't happen... at least from my end. It seemed that no matter what I did, his car was always hitting mine, knocking it to one side, turning it over, or trapping it in a corner. At first I thought he was just lucky, but it soon became apparent that Hambone knew what he was doing. I was almost grateful when the rechargeable batteries began to run low and we had to quit. It's hard on the ego, going down in flames to a two year old.

Brutus thought the cars were great fun too. The poor pup was quickly banished when he picked one up, wheels still spinning, in his Grand Canyon-sized mouth and trotted into the living room.

Grandma Sargie wasn't without Grady action. They spent no small amount of time putting together a block puzzle. Hambone was most proud when he could match pictures and pieces with little help from his grandma.

Another large Hubbard squash in storage was beginning to show signs of going bad. Since we were confined indoors, I decided there was no time like the present to butcher the thing.

Grady wanted to help, but a very sharp knife and a hot oven aren't things that little boys should even be close to. He was content to pick up seeds that had fallen onto the floor while eating... dried prunes. Yeah, I know. Sargie can't get the kid to eat vegetables, but he'll eat prunes. Go figure. 

Mommy and Daddy sent over some, ahem, "musical instruments" that Grady had been given for Christmas. Uh huh.

A one man marching band. He's hitting a small cymbal on the head of a tambourine while singing Jingle Bells.

You KNOW what they say about paybacks. Just wait until Pawpaw gets little Grady a tuba or a set of drums so Mommy and Daddy may enjoy the same lilting melodies that we have. Little do they know that Pawpaw has a PhD from the University of Payback with Musical Instruments. 

Grady's left eye began watering late in the afternoon and by evening, it had turned a dark and ominous color. Pink eye. 

Being in the vision business, Sargie hurriedly called the optometrist for whom she works and had a prescription called into our local pharmacy. Sargie drove to town and Grady got his first dose of medication last evening. His eye was already looking better by bedtime.

Last evening was a quiet one after a very active day. We'd played, we'd danced, we'd crashed cars, put up squash, solved picture puzzles, carried in wood, taken a drive, and done about anything else three people could fit into a few daylight hours. Grady initially fell asleep sitting on my lap, but ended the day under a blankie, cuddled with his favorite Pentoga Road Snuggle Bunny, Grandma Sargie.

I'm not sure what today will bring, but I'm assuming more of the same. I slept really well last night so I'm up for another bout of crashing remote cars and losing to a two year old.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...